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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24055480">don't lose your fight, kid</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/midnightventstonobody/pseuds/midnightventstonobody'>midnightventstonobody</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>5 Seconds of Summer (Band)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst, Birthday, Body insecurity, Cuddling &amp; Snuggling, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Sad Michael Clifford, Self-Hatred, Suicidal Thoughts, Touring, not cannon compliant</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-05-22</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-05-22</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-02 18:00:04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,159</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24055480</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/midnightventstonobody/pseuds/midnightventstonobody</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Michael had never been one for small crowds. If he was going to do something significant, there needed to be at least a thousand people there to share the story. Never in his life had he wished for the crowd to be smaller, for the eyes watching him to vanish.</p><p>Or, at least,<br/> <br/>Until he turned twenty.</p><p> </p><p>OR Michael turns twenty, and it's nothing like he thought it'd be</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Michael Clifford &amp; Ashton Irwin, Michael Clifford &amp; Calum Hood, Michael Clifford &amp; Luke Hemmings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>17</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>don't lose your fight, kid</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Hii :)</p><p>There's nothing too heavy in here, Michael's feeling a little insecure about his body and there are brief mentions of past suicidal thoughts, just a heads up. Happy reading :)) xx</p><p>Title from All Time Low's Missing You</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>Michael Clifford had never been one for small crowds. If he was going to do something significant, there had to be at least a thousand people there to make it worth doing. His actions had to be rewarded by theatrical retellings shared in front of fireplaces. Michael had wanted a legacy. Never in his life had he wished for the ever-present feeling of people watching him to vanish.  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Or, at least, </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Until he turned twenty. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>For reasons unknown to literally the entire universe, Calum Hood appeared to have come to the conclusion that bouncing on his best friend's bed was the perfect birthday greeting. Michael was quick to notice the vice-like grip his best friend had on his arms as the younger shook him with wide eyes and an even wider smile. </p><p> </p><p>"You're twenty, Michael!! My best friend is fucking twenty!"</p><p> </p><p>"Hey" An indignant, partially unconscious Ashton Irwin rolled in the other bed to face them, glaring through semi-closed eyes. "You didn't care when <em> I  </em>turned twenty."</p><p> </p><p>"Yeah, well." Luke entered the room, slamming the hotel door behind him. Michael suddenly felt very, very sorry for whoever had the room across from them. "In our eyes, you've been like, mentally fifty-three since we met you." The blond made a point of crawling over Ashton on his bed before moving to sit with Calum and Michael. He may have assaulted the older member with an elbow to the ribs. Or, maybe he didn't. Michael wasn't going to snitch. "That's including the time I walked in on you having outlandishly kinky sex with that girl backstage on tour, so…"</p><p> </p><p>"That makes no sense, why haven't I mentally aged?" The only thing Michael wanted right now was the sweet embrace of sleep. He winces as Calum barks out an unnecessarily loud laugh. Did the bassist really have to <em> still </em> be sitting on him? </p><p> </p><p>"That's what you choose to comment on?" He was a simple boy, never asked for much.</p><p> </p><p>"The point of ageing is that it changes! What's the use of giving me a mental age if it just stays the same?" Michael was seriously considering taking the heavy comforter and smothering himself until he was met with blissful slumber.</p><p> </p><p>"Well, no, it was more so you could underst-"</p><p> </p><p>"Guys!" Three heads whip to the mop of unruly red hair underneath Calum. "I really appreciate the welcoming committee, but I'd enjoy a sleep in for once, please?"</p><p> </p><p>"For <em> once?  </em> You sleep  <em> in </em>  more than I  <em> sleep!" </em> Lukes jaw shuts with an audible click as he catches Michael's no-bullshit expression. Calum seems to notice as well because he hastily swings his leg away from Michael, picking to lie next to him with his feet shoved in Luke's lap.</p><p> </p><p>"Okay, but for real. Could you go get me a muffin? Remember we saw that bakery not far from there."</p><p> </p><p>"But we'd need security Mike, and then it's gonna take like an hour to get there and back unnoticed. We don't want to leave you alone for that long!" Ashton's decently rational reasons are shot down by a childish squawk from Michael.</p><p> </p><p>"I'll<em>  be asleep!  </em>Guys, I literally could not care less. It'll basically be like I'm dead."</p><p> </p><p>"<em> Hey!"  </em>Michael winces for what feels like the fifteenth time that morning as he is smacked in the face by a weirdly smelling hotel pillow -when did Calum get a pillow- that his best friend had deemed appropriate to harass him with.</p><p> </p><p>"Right Cal, sorry, forgot about the no death-speak." The room is silent for a couple minutes, Calum and Luke watching Michael snuggle back into his pillow and shut his eyes, decisively finishing the conversation. Ashton continues tapping on his phone before looking up at the other bed.</p><p> </p><p>"Alright, security will be here in five minutes. I'm gonna go to Luke and Cal's room to have a shower. Could one of you give me the key?"</p><p> </p><p>"Nah you're good, I'll come with anyway. Gotta get changed." Cal smiles softly, running a hand through Michael's hair and scratches his scalp twice before Michael feels him push himself off the bed. "You coming Luke?"</p><p> </p><p>"Yeah just give me a minute. I've got my key on me so don't worry about letting me in." With that, the drummer and bassist stumble out of the room. They shut the door with boyish gentleness. Michael, no surprise, winces at the sound. Luke crawls up the bed before collapsing with a huff, mirroring Michael's position on his side and smiling sheepishly at the red-head. "Hi."</p><p> </p><p>"Hey" Michael mumbled, watching Luke through sleep-heavy eyes. Luke's hand finds its way to Michael's hair, threading his fingers through the tangled mess. Michael hums slightly, shuffling closer and further down the bed to allow the blond better access to his head.</p><p> </p><p>Michael isn't sure how long they lay there like that. Luke is gone by the time he wakes up, and the room has dropped drastically in temperature. Michael suddenly feels a lot more alone.</p><p> </p><p>— — — — —</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Michael had a problem with believing he wasn't good enough. It was never really <em> that  </em>big of a deal, it didn't get in the way of anything.</p><p> </p><p>That was, of course, until he turned twenty.</p><p> </p><p>Suddenly everyone around him was pointing out his accomplishments, showing him how much he'd done and sending Michael into a deep spiral of the desperate thought 'is that all?' Two decades he'd been alive. Twenty entire years. That was four more than he'd ever planned for. And what, what <em> really  </em>had he done in those four years?</p><p> </p><p>He's not sure how long the boys have been gone, but he doesn't think it matters much. It takes Michael a couple minutes to leave his warm cocoon. He finds himself busy soaking up the view of the peeling white hotel ceiling.</p><p> </p><p>Eventually, the red-head manages to roll out of bed. He stands on shaky legs before stumbling dizzily to the bathroom. Gazing at the mirror, Michael takes in the mess of hair, twisted pants and- <em> oh god,  </em>is that a curry stain on his favourite white shirt? He tears the shirt off his person, tossing it carelessly to the side as his eyes catch emerald in the mirror. </p><p> </p><p>Michael has never liked the way he looks. It's been a persistent feeling he's had since, well, forever. He put it off as a teenage thing. But now he's <em> twenty,  </em>the first age away from the 'teens', and he's staring blankly into the mirror of yet another hotel, and the slight curve outwards of his hips shouldn't matter but for some reason it always fucking does.</p><p> </p><p>And no, those aren't tears in his eyes. It's just a really dusty in this bathroom, and he's got the smallest amount of hay fever that only occurs conveniently during emotionally trying times.</p><p> </p><p>He doesn't know what he expected. To turn twenty and suddenly like the way he <em> was </em> ? To reach this age and automatically lose that excess weight that he  <em> knew  </em>didn't mean anything health-wise but did fuck-all for his confidence?</p><p> </p><p>Michael turns his head sharply and exits the bathroom. He's done this all before and knows the signs of a long game, and he just doesn't have the energy to fight for himself today. Maybe he'll tell one of the boys later that it's a shitty day, so they can fight for him instead. He finds a black sweater dangling half off Ashton's bed, Calum's, his mind supplies and he throws it on.</p><p> </p><p>— — — — —</p><p> </p><p>He's woken by a nonconsensual but nonetheless appreciated band cuddle. There's an arm wrapped around his waist, a face in his neck, a hand resting in his hair and someone's legs tangled with his own. Michael would never admit it, but he loves their 'bromance' moments like this.</p><p> </p><p>"Hey, he's finally awakening! Have you been up at all, Mike? I found your shirt screwed up on the floor of the bathroom. Did you piss on it or something? I've <em> told  </em>you how terrible your aim is when you're half-asleep." The head pulls away from his neck to speak, Michael puts two and two together to realise it was Ashton as the oldest boy babbles.</p><p> </p><p>"Oh my god Ash, shut up. I didn't piss on myself, it was just a curry stain."</p><p> </p><p>"Well, we brought you back your muffin. Luke even made us stop at a convenience store and grab a birthday candle." Michael glances over at Luke, who seems slightly pinker than usual as he smiles sheepishly.</p><p> </p><p>"Which I still don't understand- what kind of convenience are candles?" Michael tilts his head in question, wondering why Luke is flipping off this seemingly genuine act of kindness.</p><p> </p><p>"What do you mean, Cal? Everyone has a birthday. Therefore, everyone will need birthday candles at some point in the year. It's a very convenient item to have." The blonde breaks eye contact with Michael and sits up to focus on playing with the red strands of hair.  </p><p> </p><p>"Yeah, once a year. It'd be like, having mothers day cards or something in the store." By the consistent, light pulling of certain locks of his hair, Michael's pretty sure Luke's attempting some short, shitty version of a plait. </p><p> </p><p>"Oh, Calum." Michael turns his head slightly at Ashton's disappointed tone but relaxes when taking in the drummer's overly fond expression. Ashton catches the birthday-boy's eye and smiles gently before checking the time on his phone. "Alright boys, we've got a concert tonight, and Luke's hair has literally never looked worse-"</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> "Hey!"  </em>
</p><p> </p><p> "So let's get off our asses and at least make an attempt at appearing presentable, yeah?" Calum and Michael grumble in agreement as Luke pushes weakly past Ashton to leave the bed and go to the bathroom. Calum crawls up the bed to take Luke's place, leaning against the headboard. </p><p> </p><p>"Shouldn't he be using the one in his hotel?"</p><p> </p><p>"Nah, his hair products are in there" Michael yawns pathetically, sitting up to lie against Calum. Michael likes Calum.</p><p> </p><p>"Why the <em> fuck  </em>would you let him clutter our hotel bathroom with fifty thousand unnameable hair items?" Michael never said he liked Ashton.</p><p> </p><p>"Chill, Ash. He was gonna help me dye my hair again and said some crap about 'keeping it healthy before it all falls out and you literally embody the physical appearance of an elderly man, Michael.'" yeah, that conversation hadn't done all that much for Michael's self-confidence either. The incredibly-healthy-thank-you-very-much-haired boy glanced up from the duvet to see both Calum and Ashton looking at him. Calum, the best he could from being so close. Michael wanted to know how the bassist didn't have a double chin from this angle because <em> come on, that's </em> just not fair. "What?"</p><p> </p><p>"He's gonna dye your hair?" </p><p> </p><p>"Well, he's gonna <em> help. I'm </em> very capable of doing it myself. He'll just stand there holding the sweat rag."  </p><p> </p><p>"How much do you sweat while dying hair?"</p><p> </p><p>"Have you met Michael? He sweats while opening a jar of pickles." Michael can barely hear Luke turning the shower on over the disrespect Ashton's brought into the room. </p><p> </p><p>"Don't be ridiculous Ash, Michael could never open an entire jar of pickles." Michael takes it back. He doesn't like Calum anymore. </p><p> </p><p>"Is there a point to this conversation? Or am I literally only awake right now to hear you argue about my physical capabilities?"</p><p> </p><p>"You're awake because soundcheck is in two hours and you need to get ready. Use Luke and Cal's shower." Ashton leans back on the bed, fishing in his pocket for what Michael can only assume is Luke and Calum's room key. Because of course, Ashton would have it. Heaven forbid you give the two youngest members of this band anything of the slightest importance. </p><p> </p><p>"I should just wait for Luke to finish, he told me to use his shampoo for the next few washes before we dye it."</p><p> </p><p>"Since when do you listen to what Luke tells you what to do?" Michael shoots Ashton a look, reluctantly unwrapping Calum from him and taking the key from Ashton's outstretched hand. </p><p> </p><p>"Since when do you let Luke dye your hair?" Is Calum's very, very quiet response that Michael is only able to pick up because he's so used to Calum's near-silent words. He chooses to ignore his best friend's shockingly jealous tone. Michael waits until he's at the safety of the hotel door to say;</p><p> </p><p>"I'm borrowing your underwear, Cal!"</p><p> </p><p>"Oi- you fucker-" The guitarist abruptly shuts the door when he notices the family in the hallway, two children that couldn't be older than eight staring at him with confused expressions. He smiles sheepishly before taking the short walk to the next door down, slipping into his bandmate's hotel room. </p><p> </p><p>Only after shutting the door does Michael realise he is once again by himself. </p><p> </p><p>When he goes to the drawers to find Calum's favourite underwear, he hears Luke's extremely faint but recognisable falsetto. It's probably annoying the hell out of Ash and Cal, but it makes Michael feel a little less alone. </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Heyy! Thanks so much for reading :)</p></blockquote></div></div>
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